


can't get you out of my head

by Red Dragon (Red_Dragonn)



Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: (anyways), (but i THINK its canon compliant and that's all that matters imo), Alternate Universe, Awkward Conversations, Canon Compliant, Confessions, Love Confessions, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Secret Crush, That should cover it, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Unrequited Crush, You know what I mean, anyways this is just a painfully awkward convo between ex enemies, bc one had a crush, but like. the canon version of an au, for certain levels of canon and certain levels of compliant, for certain values of calls, iiiish, in lost light, is there a facetime tag?, ish, more like facetime?, so this is what we get, the one where megatron gets stuck, there is not, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 13:54:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15487302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Dragonn/pseuds/Red%20Dragon
Summary: written for an anonymous tumblr prompt on le tumblr(feel free to send me a prompt if you so desire! no promises when i'll get around to it but i will get around to it eventually, promise)this prompt wasMegs x Optimus: "I absolutely despise you because I can't get you out of my head."





	can't get you out of my head

“I despise you,” Megatron said.

Optimus had heard it before. Many times. On the battlefield. On comms. Screamed across chasms filled with the corpses of the dead. Under empty skies that stank of smoke and slag and spilled energon. Whispered in the half-quiet, stilled instant between blows, in the pause of a blade locked on another blade before they were off again into a frenetic whirlwind of trying to slag one another before the other slagged them. In rage. In pain. In hate. In fear. 

Never like this.

Not so...conversationally.

Optimus sighed. “I know.”

“No— _listen_ ,” Megatron said, sounding exhausted. 

Optimus didn’t roll his optics, but it was a near thing. “I am listening.”

“I _despise_ you.” 

“So you’ve said.”

“More than once,” Megatron agreed.

“Why are you telling me this?” Optimus asked.

Megatron looked offscreen, towards something—or possibly some _one—_ in the room. “Some things have made it seem important, as of late.”

Optimus fought the urge to smack a hand to his forehelm. “Recent events made you feel the need to comm me to remind me that you hated me? That seems wastefully extreme. Even for you.”

Megatron looked offscreen again. “That,” he bit out, “is obvious.”

“Then why are you comming me.” It was not really a question. Optimus meant it as more of an out.

“I have been…doing a lot of thinking, as of late,” Megatron said. “And Ravage—”

“You’ve been in contact with Ravage?” Optimus blurted, spark suddenly in his throat. If Megatron had gone back to the Decepticons…!

“Yes? Hasn’t Rodi—”

“Is this a declaration of intent, then?” Optimus asked, steeling himself.

“No,” Megatron said, sounding tired again. “I—no.”

“Then why were you talking with Ravage?”

Megatron put one massive servo over his eyes. “He came onboard to speak to me. And then stayed. Rodimus never told you?”

Optimus sighed. “What does Ravage want you to say to me?”

Megatron looked away again. “Ravage doesn’t want me to say anything to you.”

“Then why did you—”

“I have been _thinking_ ,” Megatron said, voice absolutely exhausted, “because Ravage is _dead_ , Prime. Because where I am now, there’s no way out. Because this might be my only chance to say it, and there might not come another.”

Optimus blinked. “My condolences.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Megatron said mirthlessly. “You’re probably glad he’s offline. One less of us for you to worry about.”

Optimus didn’t answer. It was not _true,_ not exactly—but he couldn’t deny some measure of relief at there being one less Decepticon out there to menace the rest of the universe. 

“In any case,” said Megatron. “I despise you. I—”

 _“Why_?” Optimus asked. “Why are you telling me that? I’d like to speak to Rodimus.”

“He’s not here,” Megatron said. 

“Where is he?”

“Far away,” said Megatron. 

“This is not making me very optimistic about your continued adherence to the quest,” Optimus said, feeling a little knot of fear start to ball itself up in his spark. “Is he alright?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Megatron said. “I am where I am, and he is where he is. All I know is that he was not offline last time I saw him.”

“The DJD,” Optimus said, “were after Rodimus.”

“They were after me,” Megatron said, voice tight. “And Drift. And they are dead now. Not that that matters. I don’t _know_ what happened to Rodimus, Prime. Haven’t you heard? I’ve been abandoned.”

Optimus stared at the screen. “What?”

“I’m not repeating it,” Megatron said. “It’s ridiculous. I’ll find a way back somehow. I only have—” he leaned off again, and then came back, “I only have five more kliks before this call ends, one way or another.”

“What are you— _where_ are you?”

Megatron sighed. “Somewhere very far away, and without the means to ever get back,” he said. 

“Your surroundings look Cybertronian.”

“I’m on Cybertron,” Megatron said dryly. “Just the wrong one. Ask Brainstorm, or Rodimus—they’re the ones who left us here.”

Optimus cocked his head, almost on instinct.

“Terminus and I,” Megatron elaborated.

“Who?”

“Old friend. _Pre-war_ ,” Megatron stressed. “No one to worry about.”

“Autobot or Decepticon?”

“Neither,” Megatron said. “The Lost Light…had a number of strange escapades. I do not have time to get into it. Suffice to say that the Necrobot had him in a basement.”

Optimus didn’t even want to touch the nonsense of that statement. “Alright. You only have a few kliks. Understood. _What_ are you trying to say to me?”

Megatron took a deep vent, looked over the monitor— _definitely_ at someone else in the room—and then looked back at Optimus. “I despise you,” he said again.

“By the Allspark!” Optimus snapped. “Is that _it?_ You’ve already said that _three times.”_

Megatron gave him a flat look. “I have not yet finished my sentence.”

Oh.

Optimus raised his optic ridges. 

“Two klik warning,” an unfamiliar voice called from offscreen. 

“I know, Terminus, I can see that,” Megatron called back. “Prime—” 

“Say it,” Optimus said.

“I despise you,” Megatron said. “I always have. Because I can’t get you out of my head.”

Optimus stared at him blankly. _What?_

“Well done,” the unfamiliar voice said, the speaker’s tone drier than the Rust Spot in the dead of summer. 

“Shut up,” Megatron said. 

The other mech had the daring to _laugh_ at Megatron then, and Optimus braced himself for another show of the warlord’s famous temper. But Megatron had a small smile, too. And in that moment— _just_ for that moment—he looked thoroughly non-threatening. 

Then he looked back at the screen, smile dropping away, and the moment of strange relaxation was gone. “Well?”

“Well?” Optimus echoed. 

Megatron scowled. “Are you going to say anything?”

Optimus paused, searching for the words. 

“Thirty nanokliks,” said the unseen voice.

“I—” Optimus said, and then stopped. 

“We have to be out of here as soon as this call ends,” the unseen speaker said. “They’re going to be able to trace it. Megatron—”

“I know,” said Megatron, standing up with a sigh. On his arm, Optimus could see a fusion cannon. It could have been the same one that they had slagged after the trial. Optimus tried not to gape, and failed.

“Ten nanokliks,” the mysterious mech standing out of sight said. 

Optimus tried again to find the right words. “Megatron—”

The connection abruptly cut out, leaving Optimus alone on the bridge with nothing but his thoughts and a darkened communications unit. 


End file.
